


Winter's Guile

by WarlordFelwinter



Series: Destiny / Iron Lords [7]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Character Death, M/M, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-13
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:37:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarlordFelwinter/pseuds/WarlordFelwinter
Summary: Sometimes you have to lose someone to realize how much you really care about them.





	1. Chapter 1

He had never been bothered by the sight of blood. He had made a lot of it with his own hands, whether pulling the trigger to send a scattering of bullets through a Warlord’s chest, or smashing open the ribs of someone who got in his way. Risen, civilian, Fallen. It all looked the same in the end. He was well used to blood. It was simply a side effect of his lifestyle. 

He had never been upset by the sight of death, either. It came with the territory as much as blood did. He liked to think of himself as above visceral responses. He was a war machine. Irrational, emotional responses to everyday occurrences such as death were a human thing. Nothing he had ever experienced. Nothing he ever intended to. 

It happened too quickly. 

One moment, they were patrolling an old village, following reports of a Warlord trying to expand their territory. They couldn’t find any evidence. There was no immediate threat. They were being careless, helmets off, talking and laughing. A patrol turned into an outing. 

Timur was ahead of him, walking backwards. Coyote nearby, taking recordings and pictures at his Lord’s request. It was something he did a lot. Documenting nothing important. He always said it was important to him. They were going to make history, he said. People would want to know who they were. 

Timur was laughing and then, suddenly, he wasn’t. 

One bullet. 

It clipped Coyote, sending the Ghost to the ground, light flickering and going out. Perhaps it had been aimed at Timur’s temple and hitting the Ghost had altered its trajectory. In the end, it didn’t matter. 

Blood sprayed the ground right before Timur hit it. Silimar dropped a shield around them, as more bullets came from the surrounding buildings. Gheleon started shooting back, the muzzle of his rifle piercing Silimar’s shield. Felwinter didn’t notice most of this. 

He was frozen in place, watching Timur struggling to grab his Ghost. The sniper bullet had torn through his throat. He was choking on his own blood, eyes wide, some sort of strangled, desperate noise trying to escape him. For what seemed like an eternity, Felwinter couldn’t make himself move through the shock.

Something clicked in Felwinter’s mind and he dropped to Timur’s side, grabbing Coyote and pushing him into Timur’s hands. His hands went to Timur’s throat and started trying to put pressure on the bleeding, but logic told him it was pointless. The bullet had severed major arteries and his trachea. He convulsed, lungs trying to force out the blood that was filling them. 

“Felan…” Felwinter managed, his voice coming out with a burst of static. He knew it was in vain. His Ghost was aligned to his own Light, she wouldn’t be able to help Timur, that wasn’t how it worked. 

Timur stared at him desperately, eyes wide and terrified. He had never seen him look so scared. Blood bubbled up between his lips and out his nose. Too much in his throat, it was filling his sinuses now, yet still pumping from the ragged tear in his neck. He was drowning. And Felwinter couldn’t do anything. He dropped his hands from Timur’s neck and pulled him up into a sitting position and hugged him tightly, immediately feeling warmth soak into his robes, just trying to comfort him as his shaking got weaker. 

Timur slumped against him, his Ghost falling from his hands into the reddening snow. Felwinter’s mind went blank. He tucked his head against Timur’s neck, listening, feeling. A pulse, a heartbeat, a breath. Anything. 

“Felwinter?” Silimar’s voice sounded far away. “Felwinter!” 

Felwinter didn’t react. He couldn’t. There was too much else going on. Felan said something, too, but her voice was lost in the static. Silimar touched his shoulder, but Gheleon snapped at him. 

“Don’t.” 

Felwinter’s head tipped back slightly against his will, jaw opening slightly to let in the cold winter air. He was overheating, struggling to keep up with everything that was happening in his head. Something was telling him, over and over,  _ he’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead.  _ Part of him was arguing, trying to find a logical solution to this. He  _ couldn’t _ be dead. That’s not how this was supposed to work. And the rest of him was just… screaming. 

_ Fel…  _ “Fel!” Felan appeared in front of him. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay. You need to slow down. You’re processing too fast for your systems to keep up with.” 

Felwinter stared at her blankly. There wasn’t room for him to comprehend what she was saying. He could feel her in his mind, gently trying to calm him. He began to wonder why he was so troubled in the first place. Who was Timur to break him like this? 

“Ship’s close,” Gheleon said. “We should go before more of them show up.” 

Felwinter shook his head, not in disagreement but in pain. It was physical now. He was… shaking. Trembling. Internal systems overworking to try to cool his mind. If he had lungs, he would be panting. 

“Fel, look at me,” Felan said. She sounded worried. “You’re looping. I have to shut you down for a bit, okay? If I don’t you’re going to overheat and hurt yourself.” 

Static. He couldn’t hear a word she was saying. 

Things began to shut off and he felt something else he didn’t think he would ever feel. Panic. He tried to force Felan out of his head. He didn't want to hurt her, but he needed to be here. He needed to be  _ awake _ . Didn’t she understand? He couldn’t leave Timur. Not  _ now _ . 

_ Felwinter.  _ Felan’s voice cut through. Stern. 

No. No. No. 

His grip tightened on Timur’s coat. 

He was dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. The word meant  _ nothing  _ to a Risen. Death was something that happened to Warlords, when Felwinter destroyed their Ghosts. Not Iron Lords. Not  _ Timur.  _

More systems left him and he couldn’t fight Felan anymore. He tipped his head, pressing it against Timur’s shoulder, giving up and letting her pull him into unconsciousness. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revenge and reminiscing

“That’s it… Easy…” 

Felan slowly came into focus above Felwinter. It was taking a moment for everything to settle in his mind. He sat up, causing Felan to drift backward slightly. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. “I know those shut downs aren’t pleasant.” 

Felwinter made a noncommittal noise, taking a beat to review memories, unable to recall why Felan had shut him down in the first place. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, but she usually asked first, or did it on his own order. He couldn’t remember giving permission for this one. 

And then he remembered. 

The room dimmed slightly as the running lights in his throat dropped out one by one. 

“Felwinter?” Felan asked quietly, coming close. 

“I’m… fine,” he said, getting up and straightening his robes. He was back in his room at the observatory. “Where’s Timur?” 

“In the Temple,” Felan said, taking her place over his shoulder as he headed outside. “Skorri and a few of the young Warlocks are trying to fix Coyote.” 

“He got shot,” Felwinter said, stepping out into the snow. One of the wolves ran up to him and sniffed his hand, looking for a treat. He gave her a scratch between the ears and kept walking. 

“He’s not dead,” Felan said and Felwinter looked at her sharply. “He’s in some sort of dormancy, but there’s still Light. Skorri’s doing her best to bring him back.” 

Felwinter looked ahead, not replying. He had gone cold when he remembered what had happened in the town, internal temperature quite literally dropping as he had sectioned off and restrained the responses that had started to arise. He didn’t want a repeat of his breakdown. But at Felan’s words, something escaped his carefully constructed walls. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it felt… warm. Hope, perhaps. He would have to keep an eye on it. Best not let it get out of control before he knew exactly what the situation was. 

Gheleon was sitting on the stairs outside the Temple, cleaning his knives. He looked up as Felwinter approached, gave him a nod of recognition but said nothing, for which Felwinter was grateful. The last thing he wanted was sympathy, or attempted comfort, or anyone reminding him of how he had utterly failed to keep ahold of himself. 

_ It’s okay to have emotions, you know _ , Felan said, detecting his thoughts. 

“Not now,” he murmured, going inside and halting almost immediately. Inside the large entrance room there was a sort of altar set up. A high table with a banner draped over it, black and emblazoned with a white tree, surrounded by candles, on top of which lay Timur. 

Felwinter guessed Skorri was responsible for the arrangement. He walked over, skirting the candles, and looked down at Timur. They had put him in a clean robe and washed the blood from his face and neck, using the large fur ruff of the robe to hide the wound. His hands were folded over his stomach, eyes closed and expression relaxed. Someone more metaphorical might say he looked like he was sleeping. 

To Felwinter, he simply looked dead. 

Timur was always moving, always speaking, even when he slept. He had fallen asleep once in Felwinter’s study after a late night of looking through old records and Felwinter had put him out in the hallway for how much he muttered to himself and shifted around. Gheleon had once said, in a rare joke, that Timur had enough extra energy to power the Traveler itself. 

This stillness was unnatural. 

“Felwinter, you’re awake.” 

Felwinter looked up as Skorri came in from one of the halls. Her usually jovial expression was metered and sorrowful. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked. 

“I wasn’t injured,” he said, deliberately dodging the question. He didn’t know how to answer it. Instead he changed the subject. “Any news on his Ghost?” 

Skorri frowned and looked like she was going to push before she changed her mind. “He’s still… dormant. As far as we can tell it’s something like shock. My Ghost is working to revive him, but I think the real answer will be time. He’ll recover.” 

Felwinter nodded. “Keep me updated,” he said, heading for the door. 

“Where are you going?” Skorri asked. 

“Those snipers weren’t acting on their own.” 

Skorri grabbed his arm and stopped him. “I know you’re angry,” she said. “But promise me you won’t go after a Warlord by yourself.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of handling it,” Felwinter said. Skorri gave him a stern look. He snapped his jaw a few times, annoyed. “I’ll take Jolder.” 

Skorri let him go and nodded. “I think she’s over by the gondola, training.” 

Felwinter walked back outside, trotting down the steps, and striding quickly back toward the observatory. He had Felan retrieve his shotgun and looked it over as he walked, deliberately ignoring the sympathetic glances he got from a few of the others. 

Gheleon caught up to him and matched his pace. “Heading back to Efrafa’s territory?” he asked. Felwinter nodded. “A few of my Hunters tracked down his hideout. He has a lot of soldiers, though we took out a fair number yesterday. You’ll need backup.” 

“I’m taking Jolder,” Felwinter said. 

“I’m coming as well.” 

Felwinter didn’t argue. He had never minded Gheleon’s company. The Hunter was always quiet and respected his privacy. 

They walked down to the gondola bay where they found Jolder and Saladin having a training bout with swords. Saladin glanced over as the other two came into view and Jolder took advantage of it and knocked the other Titan down. She stabbed her sword into the ground and helped him back up, laughing. 

“Jolder,” Felwinter said. “Are you free?” 

“Depends what you need me for,” she said. She looked between them and nodded. “But I think I can guess.” 

“Felan, call the ship,” Felwinter said. He was glad Jolder had agreed to come. She was a powerful ally to have if things went wrong. And, the main reason he had chosen her, she was, aside from Gheleon, the least likely to ask invasive questions about his emotional state. 

It was a short flight to the village where they had been attacked the previous day. During it, Felwinter checked his weapons and armor. Counting and recounting ammunition. Straightening his robes, tightening belts and fastenings. He knew everything was in perfect condition. 

_ You’re fidgeting, _ Felan commented. He saw Jolder watching him from the corner of her eye, but she looked away when he glanced at her. 

Felwinter smoothed the fur on the collar of his robes and his hand jittered slightly. Timur had given him these, not long ago. He had claimed Felwinter’s previous robes were disastrous and that a Warlord should look more noble. He still delighted in tossing Felwinter’s old title around, seeming to find it amusing. Unbeknownst to him, light crept up into his cheeks at the memory of Timur trying to brush the gift off as charity but failing to not look delighted when Felwinter accepted it. 

“Felwinter?” 

He startled slightly and looked at Jolder, realizing his hand was still stopped in mid air above his shoulder. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting like this. Jolder was staring at him in concern. 

“We’re here,” she said. It sounded like it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. 

Felwinter dimmed his cheek lights forcefully and nodded, putting his helmet on. “Yes, sorry. Lost in thought. Felan?” 

A second later he was standing in the snow. Jolder and Gheleon transmatted down a heartbeat later. They were where they had been before. It was obvious from the amount of blood on the ground. Felwinter didn’t look at it. He looked at Gheleon and nodded for him to take the lead. 

The Hunter lead them down a few of the old, abandoned streets before stopping and ducking into what looked like an apartment building. He gathered them around in a small, windowless room. 

_ “There’s a chapel a few blocks away,”  _ Gheleon said.  _ “Far as anyone can tell, Efrafa camps out below it. Ghost scans say it looks like a cave system.”  _ Gheleon’s Ghost provided a map of the town for their heads-ups, with an overlay of what their GPR had found. It reminded Felwinter of a rabbit warren. 

_ “He’ll have a bolt hole,”  _ Jolder said.  _ “We’ll have to be fast.”  _

_ “And quiet. There’ll be snipers in the surrounding buildings. They usually don’t patrol the outskirts of the village, but I believe yesterday was a trap,”  _ Gheleon said. A few buildings highlighted on the map. 

A trap. Of course. 

Felwinter mentally berated himself. He should have  _ seen _ that. He shouldn’t have let his guard down as he had. He felt an unexpected lash of anger toward Timur. It was  _ his _ fault Felwinter hadn’t been paying attention. He was always letting his guard down around him. Always lured into a false sense of security by his laugh and crooked smile. 

_ “Got that?” _

What had he missed? Another irrational wave of anger. Even dead, Timur plagued his thoughts. He needed to focus. 

_ “Felwinter, you still with us?”  _ Jolder asked, her tone joking, with an undercurrent of worry. 

“I am here. I’m sorry, I was just…” he faltered. He didn’t want to admit he had been thinking about Timur. 

Jolder reached over and grabbed his shoulder, squeezing lightly. The map flashed again as she went through the plan one more time.

* * *

 

Efrafa wasn’t hard to find. 

He was waiting for them in a cathedral cavern, sitting calmly on a throne as if three Risen hadn’t just slaughtered his guards. It hadn’t been the easiest fight, but none of them had needed to be resurrected. After distinctly hearing Jolder shout,  _ “That’s for Timur!” _ as she slammed a Light wrapped fist through a man’s ribs, he suspected he wasn’t the only one driven by vengeance. 

The Warlord looked at them almost curiously as they came in, blood spattered and weapons drawn. 

“Welcome Wolves,” he said. 

Jolder started to speak. Felwinter cut her off by pulling the trigger on his shotgun. The Warlord’s head slammed backward, blood and brain matter spattering the back of his throne. His Ghost came out and Felwinter ended it as well. 

Jolder looked at him.  _ “He might have surrendered. Don’t we usually give them a chance?”  _

“He didn’t deserve it,” Felwinter snapped, sounding angrier than he intended to. 

Jolder said nothing. 

A sniper rifle cracked and Felwinter spun around, just as Gheleon was lowering it. Felwinter looked at Efrafa’s corpse and saw Gheleon had shot him as well. The Hunter looked at them and shrugged, before turning to head back out the way they had come. Jolder followed. 

Felwinter, meanwhile, walked over to the pile of supplies in the corner and looked it over. Mostly weapons. Felan picked up the bizarre Light signature that led him to find the book under Efrafa’s throne. It was an old story book, but when Felwinter opened it, he found the pages had been carved to fit… 

_ Is that… a piece of the Traveler? _ Felan asked, astonished. 

Felwinter moved to pluck the tiny shard from the pages and stopped, feeling Light spark against his fingers. He snapped the book shut and stood up. He took it and headed outside, where he found the others. Gheleon was painting a symbol on the church wall. A circle, within an arch, within another arch. 

_ “Marking it for later,”  _ he said. 

A moment later, they were back on the jumpship. Felan connected his comms to Skorri’s. 

“Efrafa’s dead,” he said. “And his men.” 

_ “Good,”  _ she replied.  _ “Everyone okay?” _

“Yes,” he paused. “Any news?” 

_ “None yet, I’m afraid,”  _ Skorri replied. 

“Understood.” He closed the line and tipped his head back. 

“He’ll be all right, you know,” Jolder said, taking her helmet off. “I know you’re grieving, but Coyote’s alive. Once he wakes up, he’ll have Timur back on his feet in a jiffy.” 

“I’d really rather not discuss it,” Felwinter said, pointedly. 

Jolder frowned. “You need to,” she said. “You can’t bottle everything up. Look what happened when you tried that.” 

Felwinter glared at her. “You said yourself it’s nothing to worry about. What good is it to discuss the past?” 

“It’s not in the past!” she said. “Timur’s dead and as unaffected as you try to act, you  _ are _ affected. You haven’t been entirely here since it happened. I’m not blaming you, I understand how hard this is and how much pain you must be in, but you need to face it. This isn’t healthy.” 

Felwinter said nothing. He should have brought someone else. Radegast, or Saladin. 

Jolder made a frustrated noise and looked at Gheleon for help. The Hunter was carefully ignoring both of them, sharpening one of his knives. Felwinter checked their location and altitude. Low enough. He had Felan transmat him out of the ship. 

He plummeted straight down toward the mountainside, catching himself a few feet above the snow and lowering down, blocking his comms. 

“She’s right, you know,” Felan said, appearing next to him. 

“Not now.” 

“Then when? You can’t keep avoiding this.” 

“There’s nothing to avoid,” Felwinter said, starting up the trail, following the gondola lines. His Ghost let out a simulated sigh, her mock exasperation covering concern. She vanished back into his mind and left him to his thoughts. 

Why was everyone so concerned about him? Yes, he had briefly lost control, but it was an isolated incident. His friend was dead and he had gotten revenge for him. It was done. And yet… 

He didn’t  _ feel  _ any lighter. Facts were as they were, but emotions were more convoluted. It was easier to parse them off and ignore them. It wasn’t healthy, certainly. He agreed with Jolder there. But it was convenient. As a Warlord he didn’t have time for confusion or hesitation. 

A voice in his head reminded him he wasn’t a Warlord anymore. He was more than a machine built for war, too. He didn’t know if the Light had changed that, or something had gone wrong in the Crypt and infected his programming with what humans might call a soul. He couldn’t remember life before being Risen, but it seemed pointless to make machines that could get distracted, or upset. 

And yet, it had happened. One way or another. 

And he  _ was  _ upset, he would admit that to himself. Everything felt wrong. Skorri had once joked that they were joined at the hip. Felwinter had found it offensive, but he couldn’t deny the empty space at his side left him feeling hollow. Killing Efrafa had not changed that. 

He  _ missed _ Timur. 

“There,” he said aloud, angrily. “Are you happy, now?” Felan didn’t reply. The cages he had locked these discrepancies in were breaking down. They were muted, not overwhelming as they had been before, but still staggering. He summoned his Light into a Nova Bomb and bit it back, triggering an implosion that burned through his systems, hoping to cleanse his mind. But when the void dissipated the only thing he had gotten rid of was the snow. 

Felwinter sat down under a ledge, leaning back against the rock and looking out over the mountains. 

He thought about Timur. There was something about the Warlock that was breaking Felwinter. He thought about how they had met. In the Mothyards, fighting Fallen. Felwinter had been thrown by a Captain and landed on Timur, breaking most of his ribs. Timur had immediately after made a bizarre first impression. 

Based on what Felwinter had seen between Skorri and Perun, he would call what Timur did flirting. 

It wasn’t the last strange thing he would do. Their second meeting led to Timur guessing he was an exo and immediately after grabbing his head. Felwinter had very nearly killed him. He would come to learn that that was just how the Warlock  _ was _ . He realized now he’d come to find it endearing. His excitability, his peacocking, the unrelated tangents he would go on for hours at a time. It was all things he should have found incredibly irritating--and had, when he was a Warlord. He didn’t know how Timur had changed that. 

It began to snow and he found himself thinking about smaller things. 

His eyes, that were golden, and would sparkle in the right light. His almost childlike excitement when he found new mysteries to solve, that could snap so suddenly into a ruthless focus in battle. His endless curiosity. The deft movement of his fingers as he braided his hair, and the way he sometimes added flowers or feathers into the knots. The way he could channel his Light into a sort of mind-control. The Warlock was a very curious mix of blunt force and elegance, mystery without a sense of personal space. This confliction had created an insatiable intrigue that had allowed Timur around the boundaries Felwinter put up around himself. 

There was something else, as well. Harder to identify, with no definitive source or beginning. Just… a feeling. Warmth. Familiarity. Things he hadn’t felt before, but that had begun to manifest. Things none of the other Iron Lords created in him. Timur was special and it took him dying for Felwinter to realize he should have told him that. 

He would be okay, if Coyote recovered. That was a big ‘if’. There was no guarantee the Ghost would awake. None of them--even their Ghosts--fully understood how the little machines functioned. Only the Traveler could--

Oh.

Felwinter stood up. “Felan. Temple, now,” he said. The world twisted and he was dropped outside the Temple. Felan pulled Efrafa’s book out of her storage as he hurried inside, past the altar, back to the library, where Skorri was pacing. 

She looked up as he came in. “Felwinter,” she said. “I’m sorry, there’s been no change.” 

“I have an idea,” he said, walking over to the desk where Coyote lay, being monitored by Skorri’s Ghost. He opened the book and laid it down. Skorri and her Ghost both made intrigued noises when they saw the shard. It was still glowing and sparking with Light. 

Felwinter picked up Timur’s Ghost and gently placed it on the shard. 

Immediately Light exploded from both of them, momentarily dazzling Felwinter. The Light of the shard came up in bright tendrils, mingling with Coyote’s Light as the Ghost floated, tines expanded slightly from his core. 

And just as suddenly as it had come, it all vanished into the Ghost and he dropped back onto the book. It was only a heartbeat before the light of his eye flickered on and he lifted up and shook himself slightly, tines shifting around. 

“Whoa,” he said. “What was  _ that _ ?” 

“Explanations later,” Felwinter said, scooping a hand under the Ghost and pushing him toward the door. “You have a job to do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes that's a watership down reference


	3. Chapter 3

“I could complain about the weather, but it’s a hell of a view.” 

Felwinter said nothing, looking out over the range, remembering why he had chosen this mountain in the first place. Not the beauty--that was something he was only recently beginning to appreciate. The isolation. 

It began snowing harder and a gust of wind cut across the ledge, swirling flakes around them. Timur let out an audible shiver. 

“Do exos get cold?” he asked. “Or are you like your own personal heater?” 

Felwinter still didn’t reply, trying to form his thoughts into coherent sentences. It had been over an hour since Timur had woken back up. Felwinter had given him space, letting the other Iron Lords welcome him back while he tried to gather his thoughts. It wasn’t that he wasn’t pleased to see Timur awake, he was… nervous? Eager to be close to him again but uncertain of how to do that. Only after Timur had come and found him outside had Felwinter taken his hand and practically dragged him up to the peak. They had shared this ledge before, philosophizing or taking notes of star patterns. It was a place to unwind. 

“Fel?” Timur asked, leaning forward to look at him. “You’re being awfully quiet for someone who said he wanted to talk.” 

Felwinter looked at him. “You talk enough for the both of us,” he said quietly. Timur laughed. 

“True, but I came up here to listen to  _ you _ not me,” he said. 

“I’m sorry,” Felwinter said, looking the other direction. “I should have been paying more attention. I allowed you to die because I wasn’t focused. If I hadn’t… panicked, I could have--”

Timur put a hand on his shoulder, startling him, and leaned over. “Don’t do this,” he said. “We were all careless, I was just the clearest target. And I was dead the moment I got hit, a few seconds wouldn’t have changed that.” 

Felwinter stared at the cloud heavy sky to the east. Why was it suddenly so difficult to talk to him? 

“Fel, look at me,” Timur said and when Felwinter turned, he found the Warlock was closer. Timur grabbed either side of his head. “It’s not your fault. I don’t blame you. I’m glad you were there, I--”

Felwinter didn’t know what possessed him to do it, but before Timur could finish speaking, he grabbed him around the middle and hugged him. Timur let out a surprised ‘oompf’ but quickly dropped his arm around Felwinter’s shoulders and returned it. 

After a moment of silence, he murmured, “Mm, you  _ are _ warm.” And Felwinter laughed. 

He rested his chin on Timur’s shoulder. “Don’t leave me again,” he said, quietly, the laugh gone from his voice. The words came out without him wanting them to, underlaid with static, almost questioning. He hated how lost he sounded. 

Timur was quiet, but Felwinter felt his fingers dig into his back as his grip tightened. “I’m here now,” Timur said. 

“I know.” Felwinter leaned back. Timur let him go, but stayed close. He looked back out over the ledge, toward the observatory. “Who  _ are _ you?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I lived here for centuries,” Felwinter said, almost annoyed. “Alone. You weren’t the first one to try to approach me, you were just the first one to succeed. The first I let live. And now look what’s happened. You’ve gotten me to give up my land to a pack of wolves.” 

Timur laughed. “I supposed I’m just that charming.” 

Felwinter shook his head, cheeks glowing slightly despite himself. Timur leaned against him, shoulder to shoulder. 

“If it makes you feel any better, you’ve done the same thing,” Timur said. “I never would have seen myself lingering this long in one place, but… now I would only leave if you came with me. I can’t imagine what I would do without you.” He looked away and cleared his throat slightly. “So… try not to die, eh?” 

They were quiet for a few minutes, both aware they couldn’t promise to stay alive forever. There was too much uncertainty in their lives. But for now, at this moment, everything was calm and Felwinter let himself enjoy Timur’s company. 

He shifted, tipping his head slightly and letting it rest on Timur’s shoulder. 

“It should not have taken me so long to realize how much I need you,” he said. 

“I should have said something sooner, but I wasn’t sure…” Timur sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. He chuckled, trying to brush it off. “I wasn’t sure how it was with exos or how to bring it up. I’m certain you wouldn’t have appreciated a grand romantic gesture, though the others would have found it funny. Skorri certainly had more than her fair share of suggestions.” He was talking fast. Felwinter lifted his head and looked at him. His cheeks had darkened ever-so-slightly with a blush. 

“I am… not sure how this is supposed to go with exos, either,” he admitted. “Or anyone. Or even  _ what _ exactly this is. I don’t think it needs a name. I know that I enjoy your company and this closeness and that your presence has greatly improved my life. You have somehow become so integral to my existence that I can hardly imagine a future without you in it. Being forced to confront that possibility was… painful.” 

Timur looked at him, surprised for a moment, before he smiled. He put an arm around Felwinter and pulled him close, so their sides were pressed against each other. 

“I cannot foresee myself ever willingly leaving your side,” he murmured. 

“It’s the unforeseen that concerns me.” 

“You worry too much,” Timur said. “We are here and now, let us enjoy what we have.” 

“You don’t worry at all. I have to worry for both of us. But perhaps you’re right.” 

“I’m always right.” 

Felwinter laughed, orange lights reflecting off the falling snow as they bubbled up his throat. Timur laughed as well, leaning his head against Felwinter’s. He fell quiet only for a moment. 

“We should go somewhere warm. I’ve read about endless deserts and dense jungles to the west. Warm seas and white sand beaches that stretch for miles,” Timur said, gesturing outward at the imaginary scene. “Littered with old ruins from the Golden Age and before.” 

“The Warlords aren’t finished yet,” Felwinter said, quietly so as not to betray his longing to follow Timur away from here. 

“The others can handle a few Warlords,” Timur replied. “They can spare us. You need a break.” His other hand came up and cradled Felwinter’s jaw, turning his head slightly to face him. Timur nuzzled his cheek, smiling when Felwinter looked at him. 

“A selfless motive, then?” Felwinter asked, lights glowing softly with a smile. 

Timur laughed quietly. “Not in the slightest,” he said. “Completely selfish. I want to take you somewhere beautiful and warm and sunny, where we can be alone, unbothered by these… politics.” He paused, his smile splitting into a cheeky grin. “Plus I think I deserve a break. I  _ did  _ just die.” 

Felwinter didn’t reply for a moment, pretending to think it over, giving himself a moment to appreciate the way Timur’s eyes were sparkling. His hair was down, being tugged around by the wind, and dusted with snow. He looked wild, and beautiful. In this proximity, he could feel Timur’s Light sparking off his own. His energy was electric, unpredictable and exhilarating. Without realizing it, his own Light had reached out to the other Warlock, mingling and dancing, trying to bring Timur’s Light closer. He could tell by the way Timur’s face was flushed, his pulse visible in his neck, that he could feel it too. 

Felwinter didn’t know where the words came from, or the honest emotion that backed them. He blamed Timur’s Light. Some day he would figure out what exactly he was and what had caused a war machine to  _ feel _ , but at the moment some part of him decided to just go with it and blurted out the words, too quickly to avoid the burst of static underneath them. 

“I love you.” 

Timur’s eyes widened and his grin fell as his jaw went slack. He blinked and smiled again, grabbing both sides of Felwinter’s head and closed what little distance remained between them. The contact was brief, before Timur shifted, putting their foreheads together and laughing. He leaned back. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh. I love you too. I’ve just never seen anyone look so much like a startled rabbit as you just did.” 

Felwinter tried to look angry, but felt his cheeks glowing despite himself. 

Timur grinned. “So is that a yes to a vacation?” 

“Yes.” 


End file.
